In the Gray Areas
by Broken-Rose-Thornesxoxo
Summary: One-shot fluffy drabble I concocted. Olivia turns eighteen and visits Basil of Baker Street, famous mouse detective, her very dearest friend. R&R please!


**A/N: Something I came up with after watching "The Great Mouse Detective" yesterday while in Astronomy. Not the best idea. Coming up with a story that is totally unrelated to the class I'm in, I mean. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please R&R! Reviews are very appreciated. **

**BRTxoxo**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, it all belongs to Disney and the authors of "Basil of Baker Street". **

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Since the time she was eight years old, Olivia Flaversham knew she loved Basil of Baker Street. He was just barely over ten years her senior at twenty years old at the time they met. Basil had helped her find her father, and saved her life-more than once-when Fidget the bat had kidnapped them for Ratigan. She knew he didn't like her all that much at the beginning, but then again she didn't like him all that much at the beginning either. She knew it was because she was just a small girl at the time, interested and fascinated by everything, and he was an older mouse who knew what he was doing. They'd warmed up to each other by the end, and when he'd saved her from the clockwork in the tower, she knew that she liked him, and when he fell through the clouds with the rat, she thought that she'd never see him again. She could barely contain her joy when he reappeared, safe. He'd even gotten her name right-eventually, and she found his compulsive habits… endearing.

That was ten years ago. Olivia and her father had missed their train and ultimately decided to stay in London, in the little toy shop. Throughout the past ten years, Olivia had been in and out of Basil's home on Baker Street, and as of late, in and out of school. While in town with Basil, she came to understand the workings of his mind a little more with each passing day that they spent together, and soon became a great help to his and Dr. Dawson's cases. They listened to her, Basil more and more, until he began to talk to her about every case he could when he was at a dead end.

Even when he wasn't on a case, he listened to her. Her father, Dr. Dawson, and Mrs. Judson-Basil's nanny-found that out soon enough. Just like Toby the dog listened to Olivia the mouse, soon Basil of Baker Street, famous mouse detective, listened to her. Over the past ten years, his nanny would often come to the Flaversham's toy shop, sometimes in the middle of the night, to get Olivia to come over and make Basil go to bed. When he was sick, she would be there day in and day out helping him better.

She knew she loved him. As the years passed them by, with every holiday they spent together and every case solved, she loved him more and more, first as her hero, which gradually turned into love as her friend, and that slowly turned into deep and committed love. She knew she loved him. But she never knew how he felt about her. Basil would be there for her whenever she needed him to be, and he would usually cheer her up by asking for her help on a case, which led to his listening to her. He would hug her tightly when she helped him have and epiphany, once he even kissed her tiny head when she helped solve a major case. But it was never enough for her to decipher what he felt for her. She wondered if he cared about the age difference. It meant nothing to her.

Her inquiries with Dr. Dawson and Mrs. Judson were fruitless; he never shared his feelings with anyone, although he sometimes would with Olivia. She wondered at this but when she asked about it, he would only smile softly and ruffle her fur on her head.

This however had been the toughest time she'd ever had being away from said mouse detective. She had turned eighteen just after she arrived back at school, and that had been a few months ago. She had wanted so badly to spend her birthday with Basil and Dr. Dawson. It was now their winter vacation and she was eagerly awaiting the first sighting of the London train station. Olivia Flaversham had changed greatly over the years since her first meeting with Basil of Baker Street. She was now standing just below his height, and was every bit as beautiful as Ms. Kitty, the mouse she never met that had been at the pub on the waterfront. She certainly thought that Basil hadn't noticed, and she certainly hadn't noticed just how much she'd changed in the past few months since she'd last seen him.

He did. Of course he did. How could he not? He'd watched her grow from that annoying eight year old that came to him on her birthday to the young mouse-woman that she was today. He'd known she loved him, from the moment he saw her after reappearing through the clouds. He'd seen her eyes, the way they became so relieved, the way she breathed a huge sigh of relief, the tiny tear that escaped her eye before she turned away. He'd watched it grow through the years. He knew. But he didn't know how he felt. Well, he did, but he didn't. This was the one aspect of his life that he couldn't figure out. Just as she grew in her love, he did in his. First it was he had saved her, he knew her, he loved her as… something. As she grew, he loved her as a friend, almost a younger sister, especially when he started listening to her about cases-as she usually helped him figure something out-and then she tended to be the only one he _would _listen to. Not to Mrs. Judson, or Dr. Dawson, only Olivia. When he was sick, his nanny would actually leave to go get Olivia to get him to go to sleep, no matter how late it was. He would yell at her not to, because he knew that he would just do it anyway, but he realized he wanted it anyway after doing as she said. And he wanted to listen to her. After that, he didn't know what he felt.

Basil knew how much older he was than her. He wondered if she cared. He wondered if she had anyone else that she saw when she wasn't with him. He wondered how her father felt. He wondered how he felt. He knew how he felt. He always knew how he felt. But he didn't know what it meant, what it was. He couldn't cognitively label what he felt. He just couldn't. He felt for her, he wanted to hold her. The feeling he got when he hugged her made him happy. That one time, the one time he kissed her itty bitty head, it just felt so… right. But he didn't know _why_.

Today he was nervous. Boy was he nervous, and it agitated him. He was agitated and nervous. For Pete's sake, he was Basil of Baker Street, famous mouse detective! He didn't get nervous. There was no gray area in his emotional data bank. He knew what he felt at all times. He didn't feel nervous, he wasn't confused about his emotional state, he was happy or sad, angry or content, he admitted defeat or he claimed victory. That's how he worked. Why was he now in the gray? He didn't want to be agitated or upset when he saw Olivia. He knew how that went. She would get upset, and then he would be upset, and he would have to cheer her up, and unless he was working on a case, it was hard.

He stopped pacing and closed his eyes, exhaling loudly, trying to force his agitation and anxiety out like it was poison. His fingers dragged down his face, pulling it down farther than it was meant to go. Dr. Dawson looked up from where he was sitting next to the fireplace and reading about their latest closed case.

"You think too much." The doctor flicked his news paper and went back to reading, slightly rolling his eyes as the detective sent him a bored glare and picked up his pacing again.

_But Dawson this is different! She's changed, grown, lived! She's helped solve cases and become so much more than just a friend-_ his thoughts cut off there. More than just a friend. More gray areas, more gray emotions. He couldn't stand it confound it all! The feeling wasn't precise, it wasn't clear cut, it wasn't black or white. It was gray, it was ambiguous, elusive, sitting on the tip of his tongue but just out of reach in his mind. How was he-

"Basil."

The mouse detective froze where he was, his tail pin-straight in the air, wondering when Olivia had gotten there. And when Dr. Dawson and Mrs. Judson had left, for the doctors chair was painfully empty.

"Ah, Olivia. You're here. I was wondering when you would arrive." He visibly relaxed.

His stammering and awkwardness amused the younger mouse slightly as she moved to take off her coat and hang it up on the special peg Basil had installed just for her.

Her eyes had cleared to have a slight bluish hue in their black depths. Her fur on her head was a little longer in the front, slightly obscuring her right eye, and all around had evened out in tone, becoming a soft warm gold. Her nose was small and cute, much like her tail. Her body was slender, and Dr. Dawson often could be heard muttering about how she looked just like Ms. Kitty but much more modest and with better taste. Basil knew all this, and so he could sit in his chair without looking at her. He sat facing the fireplace, with his legs hung over one arm. Deftly he picked up his violin and began to play, focusing solely on the instrument.

"Dr. Dawson is right you know," she said, sitting on the edge of the doctor's chair. "You do think too much."

"No I don't! I think _precisely _the right amount." He gave one firm nod in Olivia's direction and went back to playing his instrument.

She smiled a bit tersely. "And what do you think about me?"

His playing stopped on a sour note and he looked at her sharply. She steadily met his gaze. "I think that you're just as annoying as you were the day we met." He turned his face away, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air.

"Oh come now Basil. We both know that's not true."

He sighed and closed his eyes. Sod the bloody gray area emotions!

"We both know what I think of you… tell me then, since you won't tell me what you think of me, how you feel about me." She knelt by his chair, right next to his head, hanging on the chair arm.

Basil of Baker Street didn't know what to do. "Oh dash it all!" he stood up abruptly, startling her into a sitting position by the chair, leaving his violin and bow on the chair, and angrily clasped his hands behind his back as he once again began pacing. "I'm Basil of Baker Street, confound it, I know exactly how I feel. I know how I feel when I feel it. I know everything; I'm the famous mouse detective, the Sherlock Holmes of Mousedom! I know exactly how I feel." He sighed again as he slowly turned to the young female mouse. "Except when I'm with you."

"Basil, be reasonable." She stood up and approached him until her light blue skirts were touching his maroon robe. "You are indeed the famous mouse detective, Basil of Baker Street. Surely you know how you feel." Her tiny eyes flicked back and forth between his.

"Of course I know how I feel Olivia." His voice lowered in volume and his tone softened significantly. She had that effect on him.

"Basil."

"Livy. Of course I know how I feel, but I haven't the slightest clue how I'm supposed to label this feeling… my whole life is black and white. I love off of facts, what's true and what isn't. This isn't anywhere close to that." He put his paw on the one she placed on his face and looked into her eyes.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Judson stood peaking through the key hole of the door and Dr. Dawson stood with his ear pressed to the crack in the door.

"I say, if one of them doesn't do something soon they're going to hurt themselves."

The nanny nodded in agreement.

"But Livy, I'm thirty years old, over ten years your senior. Can you really love me that much when I'm so much older than you?"

"I think we both know the answer to that Basil." Her voice had also decreased in volume and she looked away from the mouse in front of her, letting her paw fall off his face and out of his grasp. "Does it really matter though? At all?"

Oh how he hated to see her on the verge of tears! And there was nothing he could do about it. If those shaded areas weren't in the way… "I… I don't know. Oh Livy don't cry!" he wiped away a tear with one of his fingers.

"Good day Basil." With a sniffle, Olivia pushed his hand away as she stepped around the detective and left the apartment, grabbing her coat on the way.

His face fell, and with it his head drooped and his shoulders slouched. He was closing in on himself, trying to protect himself from the pain of losing her. He shouldn't have lost her at all. But why oh why did those areas have to be so ambiguous! Slowly he sank to his knees and stared at his hands. It was like being defeated by Ratigan all over again, only this time, he wasn't so sure that he would survive it at all. He'd never before been afraid, not of heights, not of death, not of facing the fiercest and most devious rat in all of Mousedom. But now, now he was afraid, terrified of losing this one precious girl he met ten years ago when her father had been kidnapped. _No. _

His paws clenched into fists and pounded the floor. He set his face and stood up, throwing off his robe and not bothering to even grab his coat as he rushed out into the snow covered street. Blast it was cold. But he had to find Livy. His Livy. His Olivia. His.

"Livy!" he heard shuffles to his left and ran to the steps of 221B Baker Street and saw her waiting on the edge of the steps. "Livy." He was twelve years older than her, he knew that. He felt the same way she did, he knew that as well. For years he'd listened to her talk about some mysterious mouse that she loved with all her heart that he became jealous of, listening to her almost sickly sweet feelings for him, until he realized it was him that she loved. Just from her descriptions of her emotions, he knew what he felt then. He was Basil of Baker Street, famous mouse detective. He knew how he felt, when he felt it.

As she approached her, a shot fired from the residence of one Sherlock Holmes startled them both and she jumped slightly, causing her to lose her footing and slip off the edge of the icy, snow covered step. She squeaked a tiny bit and clenched her eyes tight, not expecting to land safely. Which she did as Basil was close enough to regain his composure and reach the foot of the stairs quickly.

He caught her in his arms and held her close as she started to shiver in the wintery air. His heart was racing; he could feel his pulse in his head. If it was from almost losing his Livy, the slight pang of fear and shot of adrenaline he got from watching her slip, or from just holding her against him, he couldn't tell, but he thought it safe to say that perhaps it was all three. "Livy," he mumbled into her petite head and tightened his grip around her.

She inhaled his scent, cold relief washing over her as he held her, and pulled her body closer to his as his arms tightened around her. Olivia gripped the front of his shirt, refusing to let him go.

_Oh Livy, whatever am I going to do with you? _He knew very well what he was going to do with her. He was going to hold her and never let her go. He was going to keep her with him forever. He was going to make her his. He was going to love her forever and no one would get in their way. Yes he was older than her, but it didn't matter to him. Olivia could hear his heart thrumming in his chest. Yes he was older than her but she didn't care, just as long as he loved her like she loved him. She'd heard him say "my Livy," when he caught her and mumbled into her head. That she would keep to herself, knowing he would deny ever saying it out loud. And she wanted to know what others didn't. It thrilled her.

By this time, Basil figured that perhaps the gray areas weren't so bad, as long as it concerned Olivia Flaversham.


End file.
